


The Other Two Towers

by imogene_lovelace



Series: The Beginning of a Fellowship [2]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Developing Relationship, M/M, Suggestive archery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-23
Updated: 2006-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:34:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29101098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imogene_lovelace/pseuds/imogene_lovelace
Summary: Plans are thwarted, but only temporarily.
Relationships: Éomer Éadig/Legolas Greenleaf
Series: The Beginning of a Fellowship [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2135178
Kudos: 1





	The Other Two Towers

**Author's Note:**

> Second in a trilogy, after The Beginning of a Fellowship. You may want to read that first, although it's not strictly necessary - it's not like it had much plot.
> 
> Disclaimer: These characters belong to Tolkien, or whoever is currently managing his estate.

In the dim light of morning, Legolas opened his eyes and tried to remember where he was. It was a process he had gotten quite used to while traveling with the Fellowship; they never slept in the same place twice. But several weeks of the same sleeping mat in Helm's Deep had dulled his early-morning acuity. _I'm in a bed. Well, that's different._ His eyes scanned the walls and low ceiling. _In a small room. Nice tapestry._ He rolled over and the events of the previous evening came flooding back as his eyes fell on the man next to him. Eomer's less-than-subtle invitation to the baths, his obvious nervousness positively adorable. Washing each other much more thoroughly than was necessary. Eomer's cock in his mouth, and Eomer's hands on him in delightfully intimate ways which Legolas hoped were just a prelude of things to come. Following Eomer back to his room and falling into bed exhausted. _Definitely the most fun I've had in a long time._

The movement of the bed caused Eomer to open his eyes as well, and he smiled at his companion. "Morning, handsome." He tangled his fingers in the long blond hair draped over the pillow. "Have I told you how beautiful you are?" 

"Maybe. You said a lot of things, but I must confess that I was too distracted to remember all of them." Legolas sat up, letting the blanket fall away to reveal a slender yet finely sculpted chest. His eyes danced around the room. It was sparsely furnished, but each piece was exquisitely crafted out of dark wood---a wardrobe, a writing desk and chair, a small chest of drawers, and of course the large four-poster bed on which he was currently sprawled. Rugs with delicate patterns traced in shades of dark blue and burgundy lined the walls and floor. It seemed a world away from the crowded, dank room he had been sleeping in, full of men lying mere feet from each other on thin straw mats. "Do you sleep here every night?" 

"No." Eomer sat up also so he could look into Legolas' eyes. "Last night was the first time since we got here. I usually sleep with my men. Just because I happen to be the king's nephew doesn't make me better than they are---I want them to know I'm one of them." 

Legolas looked back at Eomer with increasing respect. "You're a good man." He reached out to gently touch Eomer's face, and drew him in for a tender kiss. "Besides," he said mischievously as even this chaste expression of affection made his skin start to tingle, "sleeping in a room full of strapping warriors who adore you must have its perks." 

Eomer blushed. It was true that he'd had most of the men in his company with an inclination toward masculine love, although he was careful not to show favoritism to those who'd shared his bed. "Well, yes. But I try to be discreet, and not...you know...when everyone else is around. There have been a few times, though...if I wake up to find a naked warrior unfastening my pants, I'm not about to tell him to go away, even if it's not so private." 

Legolas was surprised at the burst of jealousy this description evoked. He hadn't really counted on being right about Eomer's dalliances with his men. _What did you expect?_ he asked himself. _That this very attractive and charismatic man, who spends weeks riding through the countryside with his Rohirrim, has never taken one of them to bed? Besides, he clearly knew_ exactly _what he was doing last night._ Eomer had slid his fingers inside Legolas while stroking his cock, and he had known precisely where to apply pressure to make the elf come so hard his head hurt. Such knowledge was clearly born of experience. _But he seemed really nervous at first. Why? Maybe it's just because I'm prettier than his usual conquests._ Legolas had many virtues, but modesty wasn't among them. "So, how many of the Rohirrim have you entertained in such a fashion?" he asked. 

"I, um, lost count," replied Eomer. It was true. He had developed quite the reputation, at least among the subset of his men who were interested, and whenever a new such man joined the company he was usually on his knees in front of Eomer within a week---without being asked. Eomer, of course, was always more than happy to return the favor. 

Legolas' unbidden jealousy increased. _Now you're just being silly,_ said a little voice in his head. _However many he's slept with, you know you've had more._ Legolas was, after all, an elf, and he'd had a very long life in which to accumulate a large number of bed partners of both sexes. He looked at Eomer, who was leaning back on the bed, hands firmly pressed into the mattress, bringing his pectoral muscles into sharp relief. A light trail of blond hair ran down the center of his chest, disappearing under the blanket that fell around his hips, inviting the intrepid explorer to follow its path to hidden treasures. The elf's lascivious reverie was interrupted when he realized that the man was raising his eyebrows expectantly, clearly waiting for Legolas to answer his own question. The elf adopted a slightly saucy look as he said, "Well, are we comparing total numbers or lovers per unit time? You know I'm very old, by your standards." 

Eomer ran his eyes over the elf's body with a gaze that clearly meant, _you don't look it_. Legolas was actually fairly young by elf standards, and he retained a boyish exuberance that the man found quite endearing. Pale and willowy as was characteristic of his race, his slender frame concealed a surprising strength. Eomer had seen strong men struggle to draw a bow that Legolas dispatched with ease. His chest, like all elves', was completely smooth, so Eomer's wandering eyes could trace the outline of every muscle. Moving his eyes lower, he did not fail to notice that all the talk of sex had made Legolas quite hard. He leaned in and bit not so gently at the elf's neck. Legolas moaned with delight and drew Eomer's head up for a kiss. As his tongue danced over the man's he realized how much he wanted Eomer inside of him---to join their bodies completely and banish all thoughts of those other men from his mind. Eomer's thoughts were running in very much the same direction, but just as he was reaching for Legolas' erect cock they were startled by a loud knock on the door. 

"Lord Eomer! Are you in there?" came a gruff voice. 

Legolas' eyes were clearly pleading for him to be silent, but Eomer's sense of duty forced him to respond, "Yes," in a somewhat sullen tone. 

"We've been looking everywhere for you. King Theoden wants to see you immediately." 

Eomer looked crestfallen. He mouthed _I'm sorry_ at Legolas before responding, "Tell him I'll be right there," to the man at the door. 

"Yes, sir." They could hear the messenger's footsteps receding down the hall. 

Eomer rose from the bed regretfully and began pulling on his clothing, thankful that his dress armor covered the bulge in his pants. "He's the king, and we're at war," he said quietly, hoping that Legolas would understand. 

"I know. But that doesn't mean I have to like it." Legolas smiled to show Eomer that he wasn't angry. 

Relieved, at least mentally, Eomer leaned in to kiss Legolas once more before leaving. He pressed his lips roughly against the elf's, savoring his taste, wanting it to linger in his mouth until they could be alone again. He stood up reluctantly, and his resolve wavered as he looked down at the delectable sight before him: Legolas, lips flushed from his kisses, eyes heavy with lust, cock jutting triumphantly against the thin cloth of his leggings. _How late would I be if I took him right now?_

Legolas smiled languidly. "Go forth, marshal of the Mark, and decide how to save the world. Elves are known for their patience." 

_And men are not. But he deserves more than a quick fuck---later maybe, but not the first time._ "Tonight," he breathed, and the desire in his voice only served to make the elf's cock even harder. Legolas was thinking at that moment that he really would not mind a quick fuck, but he understood that there were more urgent matters for Eomer to attend to than one elf's hard-on. 

After Eomer left, Legolas lay back on the bed and stared reproachfully at the ceiling. _I can't exactly go anywhere in this state, can I? I don't have a full set of dress armor._ He closed his eyes and began stroking his cock, imagining that it was Eomer's hand on him. His breathing grew more rapid as he pictured Eomer entering him, filling him, thrusting harder and faster, Eomer's face clouded with desire, Eomer's voice, husky with arousal, calling his name...soon he was coming, imagining his lover's orgasm filling him at the same moment. When he felt he could move again he looked down at his rather sticky midsection. _Now I really need a bath._

********** 

A rather flustered Eomer strode into the meeting hall to find both Theoden and Aragorn waiting for him. Not wanting to miss the opportunity to tease Eomer out of the king's hearing, Aragorn approached him and spoke in hushed tones. "Did you have an unusually difficult time getting out of bed this morning, my friend? Perhaps some form of suction keeping you between the sheets?" 

Eomer scowled at him. "Unfortunately the command of the king is even more powerful." His mercifully concealed erection was still straining against his heavy tunics, and he did not appreciate being reminded of what he was missing by abandoning the half-naked and eager elf in his bed for a discussion of military strategy. "But," he said, his tone softening, "I am obliged to tell you that your advice on the advantages of bathing was very good indeed." He paused. "Do you think I need a bath two days in a row?" 

Aragorn laughed. "I think your efforts would not go unrewarded." From across the room, Theoden cleared his throat loudly. "But for now, I believe it is unwise to keep the king waiting." 

After a series of practical discussions on the progress of rebuilding, Eomer found himself trying to convince King Theoden to marshal the armies of Rohan for open war with Mordor, not merely a defense of their own borders. "We are no longer alone in Middle Earth, Uncle. We may have been wronged in the past, but we must forget that now, for the survival of all the free peoples is at stake. If we fight, we may lose, but if we do not fight, we will lose, and all of Middle Earth will lose with us." 

"Who is to say that the war will come to our lands?" argued Theoden. "This is between Mordor and Gondor now." 

Aragorn stood up and leaned over the table, speaking in a grave and impassioned voice. "The war is already here, King. Many of your men have died in this cause---you cannot pretend it will not happen again. Saruman was merely the arm of Sauron, and he will be none too pleased with those who have cut it off." 

Theoden frowned. "And what if he strikes here again while our armies are off fighting for Gondor? What will happen then to our families?" 

"We and the Ents have destroyed his armies here," replied Eomer. "Any more must come from Mordor, and it is at Gondor that we must stop them. We must all fight as one people, now. Even the Elves came to our aid in our time of need. Many of them died for us, though they could easily have forsaken Middle Earth for eternal peace across the sea. Think of that sacrifice, Uncle---does ours really seem so great?" 

"Since when are you so fond of Elves?" asked Theoden haughtily. 

Eomer was speechless as visions of Legolas filled his mind. He wondered if it were possible to keep from blushing by sheer force of will. 

Ever helpful, Aragorn came to his aid. "Eomer's point, Theoden, is that we must not think of ourselves as isolated peoples, isolated kingdoms. All who oppose Mordor will win or lose as one." 

Eomer glanced at Aragorn gratefully, as the momentary respite allowed him to regain his composure. He almost lost it again, however, when Aragorn winked at him slyly while Theoden was staring down at his hands. 

********** 

Eomer slumped down onto the courtyard bench, mentally exhausted from the long morning filled with weighty discussions of war. Now that he had a moment to himself, Eomer's thoughts turned again to his new lover. _Would he think it's too much if I go looking for him? Or should I just wait until tonight? Where might he be?_ Eomer suddenly remembered where Legolas would be---judging by the position of the sun, it was midday and the archers of Rohan should be taking lessons with a certain accomplished elf. Eomer had noticed Legolas' considerable skill with a bow during the battle for Helm's Deep, and he had suggested that the elf might instruct his men. The result was that he got to watch as Legolas demonstrated the finer points of archery to the Rohirrim, his manner confident but never condescending. Legolas would routinely brief him on the progress of the best archers, and Eomer had found himself looking forward to these short meetings more and more as their conversations turned from practical to friendly. One afternoon, the elf had suggested a private lesson. At first Eomer had resisted, claiming that he was "really more of a swordsman than an archer." But Legolas had insisted, saying that the leader of an army should be versed in all its weapons, so Eomer found himself in the interesting position of having the elf's arms around him, adjusting the grip of his hands on the bow and arrow with gentle touches. 

_Eomer was surprised at how keenly he felt each point of contact between Legolas' body and his own. Legolas' hand on his, pulling his right arm back to poise the arrow, another hand steadying his left arm, a firm hip pressing gently against his ass---he felt as if small flames were held up to each of these places, combining to feed a fire that spread throughout his body. He had always found the elf attractive, but had not seriously considered doing anything about it since he doubted that he would interest such a fine creature as Legolas. However, he had not anticipated that close proximity would have such an effect on him, and he began to crave more intimate contact. Legolas guided his arm backwards, and when he spoke Eomer could feel the elf's warm breath on his neck. "Pull back a little farther...there, that's good. Now aim...don't look at the arrow, look where you want it to go." Eomer's shot missed the target completely, and he couldn't tell whether it was lack of skill or the fact that Legolas' touch made it impossible for him to concentrate on the task._

The elf, however, seemed completely oblivious to his interest, so in desperation he had turned to Aragorn for help in the art of seducing elves. Apparently bathing was important. He had been terrified that the elf would be repelled by his advances, but happily Legolas had been quite amenable to being seduced. In fact, Eomer was no longer sure just who had seduced whom---the elf had been quite bold in his attentions to Eomer's cock, and the man found to his delight that his lover's skills with lips and tongue quite exceeded anything in his rather extensive experience. 

"Eomer! What are you daydreaming about? You've got a positively ridiculous grin on your face." Eomer opened his eyes ( _When did I close them?_ ) and saw his sister Eowyn smiling down at him. "And what happened at the meeting this morning? You know, I never will understand our uncle's stupid insistence that women are not allowed to contribute to such discussions." Eowyn had a keen mind and a passion for fighting, and she was continually frustrated by the limitations imposed on her as a woman. She relied on Eomer to share news and strategy with her, and she frequently provided better ideas and insights than he himself could have seen. 

He started to tell her about the assignments of his armies, but she interrupted him. "That was my second question, not my first, which I have a feeling you are trying to avoid. Which of course makes me all the more curious. Out with it, brother---what is going on with you? There is an air about you this morning which suggests that something very interesting has happened since yesterday. Not to mention that Aragorn practically snorted when the king inquired after your whereabouts this morning. I know you are not accustomed to spending the night in your bedroom unless you have...company." 

The tone with which she uttered this last word brought a blush to Eomer's cheeks. "Maybe I did have company. I don't see what business it is of yours." 

"You always say that, and then you always tell me." Eowyn smiled knowingly. "Is it that handsome new lieutenant?" She had long known of her brother's preferences, ever since she had inadvertently walked in on him going at it with his best friend when they were teenagers. After the initial embarrassment had subsided, she had assured him that she thought it was perfectly natural, and had become one of his very few confidants on the matter. "It couldn't be Aragorn, since I saw him early this morning...wait, it's not him, is it?" She suddenly blanched. 

"No, it's not Aragorn! His heart lies with the lady of Rivendell," Eomer said, with a pointed glance at his sister. "But it _is_ a member of the Fellowship." He paused. 

"Well, unless you've suddenly become partial to the short, hairy type..." Eomer looked horrified. "That would leave a certain pretty blond elf." The look on Eomer's face as she uttered these words told her all she needed to know. "Ah, I always heard that elves went in for that sort of thing. He _is_ rather cute, though he's not really the rugged, manly type..." She trailed off as Eomer glared at her, knowing that she was thinking of Aragorn and trying to dissuade her from dwelling on a man who could never be hers. It pained him to see his sister so heartbroken, and he knew it pained Aragorn as well to have to disappoint so fine a woman. 

Eowyn sighed deeply. "Why do elves have to get all the good men?" After a sulky moment she seemed to see the humor in this statement and her mood lightened. "You are going to tell me how you got together, aren't you?" 

Eomer rolled his eyes. His sister adored romantic intrigue, and she clearly wasn't going to leave him alone until he told her who started it, and how they had finally admitted their feelings for each other, blah blah...he could never seem to get her to understand that with men (and male elves, apparently), there was usually very little talking involved. 

********** 

The archers were lined up in the field just outside the wall of Helm's Deep, squinting at the row of targets across from them. At varying rates they set, drew, and released their arrows, while Legolas strolled amongst them, evaluating their technique and offering pointers. "You're dropping your elbow too much," he commented to one young man. "Keep it up through the whole shot." The man complied and then looked very pleased with himself as his improved position brought his arrow much closer to the target center. "Very good." 

At the end of the line of archers, Legolas paused and looked back at them, absentmindedly twirling the arrow he was holding. They had gotten much better in the short span of time he'd had to train them. Maybe this whole endeavor wasn't so hopeless, after all. He had seen these same men ride in as saviors in the very recent battle, Eomer leading them, urging them on into a fierce pool of orcs and Uruk-hai. It was strange that although he had hardly noticed at the time, now he could remember each time he had seen Eomer, as if he had gone back into the pages of his memory and highlighted each appearance of the man in the light of their new association. 

He'd had a difficult time concentrating on the archery lessons all morning, his attention frequently wandering either to satisfied remembrance of what had just happened or to eager anticipation of what was to come. Days usually passed quickly for him, each one becoming vanishingly small in comparison with all that had come before, but this one was taking far too long. It was barely past midday, and his nighttime rendezvous seemed painfully far away. At the same time, he was enjoying the tingle of anticipation, his normally acute senses feeling even more heightened as his body was very much aware of what it wanted. 

From across the field, Eomer watched Legolas fondle his arrow. He wasn't sure if the elf's motions were on purpose or merely an expression of his subconscious desires, but they were blatantly erotic. Legolas twirled the arrow by the base with one hand while stroking it up and down with the other, and the rhythmic motion of that hand brought to Eomer's mind vivid images of what it could be doing to another, similarly shaped object. 

He wanted to run to Legolas and pull him into a passionate embrace, but their situation currently called for considerably more decorum. He kept his eyes fixed on Legolas as he walked closer, and as the elf's sharp ears quickly detected his approach, they shared a long, lingering, lustful gaze. To Eomer's great amusement, Legolas apparently realized what he was doing with his arrow and dropped it in embarrassment. The man approached as close as he dared and laid a hand on Legolas' arm, in a gesture that could be interpreted as friendly by someone who didn't bother to look at their faces. 

Eomer found himself suddenly tongue-tied. _Why did I come out here, anyway?_ He thought he had come up with a convincing-sounding reason earlier, but he couldn't seem to remember it at the moment. _Something about checking on the archery lesson?_

Sensing more than one pair of eyes fixed on them, Legolas came to his rescue. "I trust you have come to evaluate the progress of your men, my lord." He put a particular inflection on those last two words that was presumably lost on those around them but that filled Eomer with a rush of heat. There was, in fact, no distinction in rank between them that required the honorific, but Legolas liked the decidedly erotic connotation of the words as they rolled off his tongue. 

His intent was not lost on Eomer. _Naughty elf, flirting in front of the men. I will have to punish him later._ He only half-listened to Legolas' ramblings about archery, and forgot them entirely when the elf bent over to retrieve the arrow he had recently dropped. Eomer mentally cursed the tunic that fell to the tops of Legolas' thighs, preventing him from getting a better view, but the elf's pose was enough to set his head spinning. _I'm definitely going to need another bath today. A very cold bath._ It was a fleeting moment before Legolas stood up again and smirked at the man, as if to say _I know exactly what you were thinking_. 

"Eomer, lord," said a voice behind them, and both turned to see a young man looking eagerly at his marshal. "My skills with a bow have much improved of late. Shall I demonstrate for you?" 

Eomer groaned inwardly. This particular young man had a bad case of hero-worship mixed with lust, and Eomer had not been above receiving his favors in the recent past. Now, however, he felt a little guilty for having encouraged him. "Certainly," he said, keeping his voice as flat as possible. 

The young man grinned excitedly, adding a little seductive twitch to the end of his smile. Turning to face his target, he proceeded to send several arrows very close to the mark. "My bow is always at your service, my lord," he drawled, eyeing Eomer up and down as he spoke. 

Legolas watched the exchange uneasily. It was quite obvious to him that this was one of Eomer's conquests. _Not that it took much conquering, I imagine---the boy is practically bending over for him in front of me._ He was somewhat satisfied to see that Eomer was maintaining an air of polite indifference. _Just let him wait until tonight...I'm certainly better in bed than that little twerp._

Dismissing his overly eager archer, Eomer looked over at Legolas. It was difficult to read the expressions of elves, but he thought he saw...jealousy. For some reason, it pleased him, and also amused him that a noble and divinely handsome elf, who had recently given him the best blowjob of his life, should think that he had any competition for his affections. _And I can't wait to find out what else he's incredibly good at._

"The young man is certainly a talented archer," said Legolas, a hint of pique in his voice. "And completely devoted to you." 

"Let me assure you," replied Eomer in a low voice as he stepped closer to the elf, "that his skills are nothing compared with yours." 

"If you wish for a further demonstration of my skills, I am sure it can be arranged later, in a setting that is rather more...intimate." Legolas continued seductively, "If you bring the arrows, I will bring the target." 

Eomer felt himself becoming aroused by the elf's words, and he stepped back. _This is ridiculous. I'd better get out of here before I end up dragging him behind a target._ "Later, then," he said, and walked off in the direction of the gate. He looked over his shoulder several times before reaching it, and each time met Legolas' eyes as they watched him go. He liked to think (correctly) that the elf had been staring at his ass. 

Their heated exchange had not gone entirely unobserved, for a certain young archer had been watching his lord for a clue as to why he was suddenly so uninterested in his advances. He got his answer when he observed Eomer and Legolas standing close together, speaking quietly. Something in the way they looked at each other made it clear they were not discussing archery---at least not literally. The sting of rejection was lessened by the fact the he couldn't really blame Eomer for his choice, and his mind immediately began crafting various sexual fantasies involving his lord and his handsome archery teacher inviting him for a private lesson in their bedroom. Not to mention that bringing this latest contribution to the "who is Eomer doing now?" recurring discussion among the men would be highly entertaining indeed. 

********** 

Legolas thought he had never been so pleased to see the skies darken as he sat poking at his supper. The food of Rohan had never appealed to him, and tonight he had less patience than ever for it. His appetite was for far different things. 

"Are you going to finish that?" Legolas shook his head and pushed his half-empty bowl of stew toward Gimli. The dwarf nodded his thanks. "Good stuff, this." 

Legolas merely shrugged, and his eyes scanned the room yet again. _Where is he? Surely he's finished eating by now._

"You've hardly said a word all evening." Gimli grunted as he started in on Legolas' stew. "I didn't realize how much I'd gotten used to hearing eloquent statements of the obvious." 

Legolas glared at him. "Maybe all this heavy food has weighed down my tongue." He felt uneasy---he hadn't told his two closest friends about Eomer, and he wasn't sure how they would react...especially Gimli, who seemed to have an opinion on everything and might not approve of such things. Legolas was no expert on the mating habits of dwarves, but he had gathered from a few of Gimli's comments that they were monogamous, and so he'd thought it prudent not to divulge his own comparatively sordid history. Particularly given that the majority of his lovers had been male---common though it was among elves, he feared that the other races of Middle-earth did not condone such habits. 

Aragorn looked up from the piece of bread he was using to mop up the last of his stew. "Perhaps Legolas has something on his mind, and perhaps he wishes to keep it to himself just now." He looked at Legolas with a knowing glance that unnerved the elf. _How could he know? Last night, when we walked by him in the courtyard..._ They had passed Aragorn as they emerged from their frolic in the baths, on their way to Eomer's bedchamber, and they had been too giddy to be properly discreet. _Come back and sleep with me, I don't want you to leave..._ Eomer's heated words echoed in Legolas' mind and he grew even more impatient. 

"...can talk to us, laddie, we're your friends," Gimli was saying. "Oh look, they've brought out the ale! I'd better go grab us some." 

Aragorn laughed as Gimli rushed off in the direction of the barrels that had just been rolled into the room. "Easily distracted. But he's right, you know. You don't have to hide things from us." He switched to Elvish. "I know for whom your eyes keep searching. You do not think a horse-master of Rohan would bathe so much without being advised, do you?" 

Legolas responded in the same tongue, his voiced raised in shock. "You...set us up?" 

"He came to me for advice. I gave it. He has been watching you for some time, yet you did not see it." Aragorn smiled. "I am glad to see that I did not lead him astray." 

"No, you did not," was the only reply the astonished elf could give, along with the slightest of sly grins. 

Just then they heard footsteps behind them, and as Legolas turned around he almost fell over in his chair. Eomer's armor was gone and the loose shirt he wore formed a deep V at the neck, revealing a hint of the muscles in his chest. His hair was damp, showing him to have just come from the baths, and he had trimmed his beard so that the outline of his jaw was distinctly visible. Legolas closed his mouth and seriously hoped he hadn't been drooling. 

"Pardon me," said this vision of masculine beauty. "I need to speak to Legolas about a very important matter. In private." His eyes twinkled with innuendo. 

Aragorn laughed. "I'm glad to see that you take counsel so well, my friend. But I'm afraid I just gave away your secret, that frequent bathing is not exactly a lifelong habit." 

"I think I'm beginning to like it," huffed Eomer. "And not," he continued, looking intently at Legolas, "just for the side benefits." 

"Speaking of which..." said the elf. He turned back to Aragorn. "Please excuse us." He followed Eomer out of the room, keeping a respectable distance behind him but walking very, very quickly. 

Gimli returned a few moments later with three mugs of ale. "Where'd Legolas get off to? I brought him a drink." 

"He had something to attend to elsewhere. He said not to expect him back this evening." 

"Well, then, I suppose I'll just have to drink his share, too." He shoved one mug toward Aragorn and took a hearty quaff from his own. "Ah! He doesn't know what he's missing." 

********** 

The moment the lock clicked shut on Eomer's bedroom door they fell upon each other, tongues dueling hungrily and hands groping wildly. Legolas was grateful that Eomer had shed his armor, so he could feel Eomer's chest hot against his own as the man slammed him up against the door that had just swung shut behind them. Eomer's hands slid down until they were resting on the elf's ass, and they urged his hips forward until their erections were grinding together. Legolas responded by lifting his leg to wrap around Eomer's and tugging impatiently at the man's shirt. Eomer was reluctant to let go, but he removed his hands from Legolas' firm backside long enough to pull his shirt over his head and do likewise with the elf's tunic. Both naked from the waist up, their senses were filled with skin, running hands over taut, muscled chests and teasing with fingers skirting along the tops of waistbands. Legolas reached down to rub Eomer's cock through the thick cloth of his pants. Breathing heavily, Eomer thrust against him, his achingly hard cock craving more friction. The touch filled the man with the need to bury himself inside Legolas, but as urgent as his desire was, he wanted to draw it out, to savor the elf's body thoroughly before taking him. 

Quickly deciding that hands were quite insufficient for that task, Eomer began to lick and bite at the elf's skin, starting with his neck (which elicited a series of heady moans that set up answering vibrations in Eomer's cock) and making his way down the smooth skin of the elf's chest, pausing for more detailed attention to each nipple, tracing their outlines with his tongue (more moans) before sucking deeply (even more). He sank to his knees as his explorations drew him steadily downward, his tongue bathing the sensitive skin underneath the elf's navel, tormenting him by stubbornly refusing to touch the straining bulge just below. Legolas was quite beside himself with desire by the time Eomer began to untie the laces of his leggings. When he freed the elf's throbbing cock, he was quite unable to resist a taste. He licked gently at the tip and then, when Legolas wordlessly begged for more by thrusting his hips forward, took the elf fully in his mouth. 

Legolas cried out with pleasure as he felt the wet heat of Eomer's mouth surround his grateful cock. He slumped back against the door, eyes closed, and reveled in the feel of the man's tongue sliding along his length. Eomer moved his head back and forth, drawing patterns with his tongue as his lips slid along the elf's hardness. After being teased so deliberately, Legolas had the grandiose but forgivable thought that nothing had ever felt quite so marvelous. _He's really good at this._ Almost too good, he thought, because he was dangerously close to climaxing before they'd even gotten to the main event of the evening. Eomer moved one of his hands inward from where it was resting on his ass and began trailing his fingers across his entrance, arousing Legolas to the point of remembering what he really wanted. _Oh yes, but that's not the part of you I want inside me._ "Eomer..." he breathed, unable to form any more words. 

Hearing his own name dripping off the elf's tongue in such a delightfully sexy voice was enough to make Eomer realize what Legolas wanted, and what he himself very much wanted as well. He released the cock in his mouth, which caused its owner a momentary sense of loss, but it did not last long as he began to anticipate even more intimate activities. Since Eomer was already on his knees he untied the elf's boot lacings and pulled off his leggings. Legolas, trembling with desire, was grateful for the assistance. 

Eomer stood and hastily removed what remained of his own clothing, then rummaged in a drawer for the bottle of oil he kept for just such an occasion as this one. When he turned toward the bed he saw that Legolas had already sprawled over it. He was lying on his stomach, his white skin a sharp contrast to the dark cloth of the sheets, his rounded, perfect ass presenting an erotic invitation. The elf's eyes were dark with lust as they perused every inch of Eomer's naked body, focusing especially on the erection that jutted out proudly from between his legs. Legolas looked so beautiful lying there that Eomer did not pounce on him right away, but stood a moment staring at the vision before him. He wanted to take in every detail of the elf's body, every curve and muscle, the exact way his golden hair fell over his shoulders, the outline of his lips, the desire in his eyes. This was an image he would keep in his mind forever, to warm him on cold, lonely nights in the many battles ahead. 

Then Legolas moved, letting one arm dangle off the bed and spreading his legs farther apart. "What are you waiting for?" he drawled seductively. Eomer needed no further invitation. He draped his body over the elf's, so his cock was nestled in between the globes of Legolas' ass, thrusting against him ever so slightly as he ran his tongue along the edge of a pointed ear. Legolas writhed beneath him, seeking to increase the friction of his own cock against the sheets as well as Eomer's against his ass. Deciding that the time for foreplay was now most definitely over, Eomer swiftly coated his own cock in oil, then pulled Legolas onto his knees and positioned himself at the elf's entrance. He teased Legolas by sliding one slicked finger inside him first, but the subsequent whimpers of pleasure were quickly too much for him and he withdrew the finger in favor of his own throbbing cock. 

Not wanting to hurt his lover, Eomer pushed inside him slowly at first, but Legolas would have none of it. As Eomer entered him he thrust back hungrily, gasping when Eomer's cock stroked that spot inside of him, filling him with waves of pleasure. Eomer thrust wildly, drunk with the sensation of being surrounded by Legolas' tight heat. He craved more contact between their bodies, so he pulled Legolas upward until his back was flat against Eomer's chest and their hips moved in unison. With one hand he roughly caressed the elf's chest and with the other, still coated in oil, he began to stroke Legolas' cock in time with his thrusts. The elf reached his own hand behind him to grab Eomer's ass, moaning as he urged him in deeper. 

Feeling that he was close, Eomer worried that it was too soon, that the many hours of unsatisfied lust behind him would keep him from lasting long enough to satisfy Legolas. But he needn't have been concerned, because just as he thought this he felt Legolas move faster against him, muttering a series of Elvish curses. The hand that wasn't planted firmly on his ass reached up and tangled in his hair, pressing Eomer's face against his neck as Legolas' head fell back against the man's shoulder. As Eomer sucked at the skin against his mouth, he felt the elf's body tighten around him and hot seed spill over his hand. With a few more thrusts Eomer came as well, shouting as his cock shuddered its release inside Legolas. 

Eomer gently extricated himself and the two fell back on the bed in a tangle of limbs and tongues. After their kisses abated, it was some time before either of them found the energy to speak. "I hope," said Legolas, lazily tracing outlines around Eomer's navel, "that the walls of this room are thick." 

Eomer laughed. "I believe so. At least, no one has commented on hearing any unusual noises before. And you were certainly not the loudest." As he said this, Eomer realized that the thought of being in this bed with anyone other than the beautiful elf in his arms was extremely unappealing. It was an unusual thought, for him, and he was rather unsettled by it. "But I must say I have never heard those particular words before. Elvish, I presume?" 

"Yes, but nothing you're likely to hear in polite conversation. The nearest translation for most of them is 'fuck'." 

"Really? How do I say, 'you fuck exquisitely, my handsome elf'?" 

Legolas obligingly translated. Later that night, he gave Eomer occasion to add even more interesting words to his Elvish vocabulary.


End file.
